We are all very used to the idea of a trip to the supermarket being as good as it gets. Especially for the past few months it has been about all we have been legitimately allowed to do. No longer do conversations go:
“How was your week off?”
“Great, we went to Spain. It was fab.”
Instead they are more like:
“What have you been up to?”
“Quite a lot actually, I went to B&M followed by Tesco. I might pop into Sainsbury’s later.”
I know my weekly trip out of my village mostly involves a supermarket visit, collecting bits for elderly customers that we don’t sell at the shop, gathering my weekly supply of wine, seeing what other unhealthy snacks I can add to my growing stock. I’ll never lose those lockdown pounds!
It’s thrilling.
I remember in lockdown number one a year ago I went out to the supermarket for the first time after five weeks of not leaving my village. My days were just work, wine, sleep and repeat. My car somehow started which goes against all of the problems I have had with the battery since and off I went down the road. It felt so peculiar driving, leaving the village and then going in the supermarket for the first time with COVID restrictions.
Before this trip I’d never experienced queuing to get in, only entering on a green light and sanitising my hands, keys, phone and trolley before setting foot through the door. Now it is all so familiar.
However, the other day I drove to a supermarket slightly further away so that my car got a bit more of a run (battery lockdown problems) and I felt flat about going to the supermarket.
The trip that for so long has been a release. That which has been headspace away from work. A task that isn’t that difficult. No major thinking is required yet I felt flat, unwilling and totally couldn’t be bothered to trudge around yet another selection of aisles getting the same old goods and abiding by all the extra rules.
It felt difficult. I was lost. My mind was freaking out about the check tyre pressure sign coming up on my car when usually I’d just register it and carry on. It felt like the biggest problem. For a second I hated this way of living.
Mostly I’m of the opinion that everyone is in the same boat and we’re all in it together. You know, all of Bojo’s slogans in one. But on this day I felt a hint of frustration and anger. Pointless but true. I think it got on top of me and then I couldn’t find the Kievs!
So that’s my story of a recent mini meltdown. I’m writing it to you all for no other reason that to connect with others who have also experienced temporary inner screaming matches relating to this pandemic. Sometimes you just have to let it go…
All blog posts can be found at https://www.harrietmills.co.uk/ and to read my published work visit my portfolio. My debut novel, Dear Brannagh, is out now.